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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24716020">Tomorrow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetal05/pseuds/rosepetal05'>rosepetal05</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Editing? I don't know her, Emma likes farmers markets fight me, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Nothing happened, One Shot, Short One Shot, There is no plot, apotheosis? I don't know her, farmers market?, fuck I love paulkins, i don't know how to center things, i tried to use metaphors but they're all cliche, i wrote this in the car, it's barely a songfic, just ur gal rambling, maybe if you squint, woohoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:47:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>892</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24716020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetal05/pseuds/rosepetal05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul reflects on tomorrows.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tomorrow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi.<br/>Did I write a paulkins fic after listening to What if Tomorrow Comes? Maybe.<br/>Enjoy?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Paul wasn’t one to look forward to ‘tomorrows’. He had a routine that he stuck to, which hadn’t changed for the past 5 years. He went into his 9 to 5 office job, came home, either cooked or got takeaway, and watched TV until 10. Then he would brush his teeth, read for half an hour, and go to sleep. His alarm at 7 the next morning would set the cycle off again. The most exciting thing that would happen was that sometimes Bill would invite him to have dinner with Alice, usually after he had watched her in some musical she had starred in, so it kind of balanced out. Nothing lost, nothing gained. And Paul was content with his life. He liked his routine, and he didn’t mind that his life didn’t have much excitement. He didn’t think he needed it. </p><p>Then Emma entered his life.</p><p>She stormed in like a hurricane, uprooting everything in his life. It started out small. Instead of making shitty break-room coffee at CCRP, he walked over to buy shitty Beanie’s coffee from her. Instead of reading for half an hour and immediately going to sleep, he would stay up trying to think of ways to get her to notice him. Suddenly, his days would become exciting when she gave him a casual glance, a quick smile. </p><p>When Emma agreed to go out with him, Paul was ecstatic. For once, he didn’t get bothered by Ted’s annoying arguing, by Charlotte’s constant whining. He floated above it all, smiling and nodding, to the point where Melissa came up to ask him if he was ok. He looked at his phone more, subtly grinning at random memes she sent him. His coworkers would try to look over his shoulder, suddenly showing interest in his life. They went on their first date, and suddenly Paul really liked Indian food. Then they went on a second date. Then a third. They kissed. They officially began dating. She moved in. Paul would go over to Beanie’s during his breaks, now actually dating the cute barista. He would look forward to the end of the day, when he could go home and spend time with Emma, just the two of them. She would laugh, and he would pull her in closer, laughing too. </p><p>Technically, Emma didn’t look forward to tomorrow's either. But not for the same reason as Paul.  She saw every day as a new opportunity, a chance to do something different. Emma lived in the moment, not waiting for anything before she jumped headfirst and did something new. She would force him to go out on the weekends, trying new activities. No matter what they were doing, she would end up smiling and laughing, loving every second. And he ended up loving every second too.  She was a blazing light, and Paul watched from afar, dazzled by the view. </p><p>...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

</p><p>“What do you fucking mean, you’ve never been to a farmer’s market?” Emma was sprawled across Paul’s chest, her eyes closed as he ran his fingers through her hair.<br/>
“I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it,” he said. She shifted up, pushing herself up onto her hands to bring her face up to the same height as his.<br/>
“The farmers market is the best fucking place you will ever go to,” she stated, staring him down. Paul laughed silently, questioning her with a small raise of his eyebrow.<br/>
“Don’t you fucking laugh, bitch. You clearly don’t deserve the joy that is the farmers market. It’s got everything you’d ever need. Honey in tiny jars? Got it. Random crafts with no real value that you will definitely blow your money on? Fucking everywhere. Impossibly nice people who will give you their bread recipes? You bet your ass.”<br/>
Paul couldn’t help but grin as he watched Emma explain to him the apparent joys of this  market. Her eyes were blazing, her hands moving wildly as she began to talk about the ‘impeccable vibes’ that came from the farmer’s market.<br/>
“What the fuck are you smiling at, market virgin?” she stopped, getting up in his face.<br/>
“Market virgin, huh? Is that an official term?”<br/>
“Yep!” she grinned, “Trademarked by the official committee of farmer’s market goers. I get the weekly email blast. Anyway, I’m taking your V card tomorrow, and you’ll thank me,” with that closing statement,she flopped back onto her back, her small form disappearing into the soft sheets.</p><p>Paul’s smile remained on his face as he watched her until her chest rose and fell in steady breaths, her grin fading into a serene expression. It was a rare sight. Emma was usually a flurry of movement, a never stopping wave that crashed over the heads of anyone who got in her way. And while he loved that Emma, he craved the little snippets of calm Emma that he got to see. She looked so serene, so at peace. The curves and dips of her face fascinated him, and he wanted to know every single one. He gently pushed a stray lock of brown hair from her face, amazed that his situation was actually real. Lonely, sad, Paul Matthews, was in bed with his girlfriend. His girlfriend, the cute barista from Beanies.  And for the first time in a long time, Paul was excited for what tomorrow might bring.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yep. Is 'tomorrows' even a word? <br/>Shockingly, I don't even like farmers markets that much. I don't know why I wrote about them. I am as confused as you. </p><p>Kudos and comment if you want, I really appreciate it (they give me life)!</p><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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